For Jess
by scarlet tribe
Summary: A young woman, a young criminal, seeks out the help of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. While John enjoys her upbeat and sunny disposition, Sherlock much prefers her usefulness on the case. While on the case, Sherlock finds himself enjoying her presence more than he thought and finds himself doing things he never thought he would. All for Jess.
1. Chapter 1

For Jess

Sherlock sees all. It's just the way things are. He sees and processes everything. He sees the callouses on John's hands, he sees the runs in Mrs. Hudson' stockings, he smells the smog of London, the fumes of the cab waiting for them on the curb. He sees the people walking past, minding their own business. As he shuts the door to 221 B Baker St., he sees a girl walking in his direction, only a few steps away, head down, looking at her Ipod, earbuds in. She was going to bump into him nd he didn't have time to move.

Sherlock gently put his arms up so she didn't collide into his chest to hard. She was startled when his hands were on her arms and looked up with wide, startled eyes. One hand yanked out an earbud and her eyes switched to apologetic as the other rested on his coat, a reaction to keep from falling over even though he had a solid grip on her. He looked down at her, face neutral as he read her in. It switched to slight annoyance at being bumped into.

"I'm so sorry!" She apologized. _Australian. Recently moved to England, her accent is still unchanged._

"It's fine." He huffed and let her go. People need to pay attention to where they are going. She dropped her hand with her ipod in it, the one that had pressed against his coat and she smiled up at him sheepishly.

"Looks, like I need to be more careful." She offered and stepped to the side. "Have a good day." She said and brushed past him. John watched from the cab, patient. As the girl took a step away, Sherlock noticed he was missing something. He spun and grabbed her arm firmly, slightly pulling her back. Without warning, she spun and punched him in the nose, hard. Sherlock let her go and stumbled back. He could hear the click click of her brown ankle boots as she fled.

John ran to his side, concerned and confused.

"Christ, Sherlock, are you alright?" He asked as Sherlock regained his balance. Sherlock brought his gloved hand away and saw blood. His eyes had teared in response and the nose was tender. HE didn't think it was broken. Sherlock nodded.

"I'm fine." Sherlock said and spun. "She took my wallet." He grumbled and ran off, following her. John sighed and dropped his hands, exasperated, before following after Sherlock. They didn't have time for this.

The two ran for three blocks before Sherlock lost her. She was fast. He scanned the crowd for anything that matched her description. She was average height, around 5'5, but she was slim. He looked around for her light brown hair. It only reached her shoulders. He looked for her black coat. He listened for the click click of her boots. He got nothing. She was gone.

Sherlock let out a growl of frustration. John stopped at his side, panting slightly. He shook his head and Sherlock spun around a few times, looking.

"We have to get back to NSY. There isn't anything we can do at the moment." John told him. "We'll cancel the cards on the way." Sherlock grunted again and went to the curb, hailing another cab.

"She was fast." Sherlock mumbled, frustrated and slightly impressed. "She'd been doing that for a while." John chuckled.

"I just can't believe someone pickpocketed you." John said with a small smile. Sherlock scowled and shoved his hands in his pockets as the cab drove off. He scowled out the window until his hands felt something in his pocket. He frowned in confusion and pulled it out. It was a slip of paper.

"What's that?" John asked, looking at what he pulled out. Sherlock opened it.

 _I'll give it back._

"We'll see her again soon." Sherlock told him. "She doesn't want the money on the cards. She wants information." He said, looking at the scrap of paper.

"She could have just gotten information off of the blog." John offered, confused. Sherlock hummed at that. What was she looking for?

He had gotten a good look at her before she bolted. Her hair was natural. Her eyes were blue with gold flecks near the pupil. Her accent was Australian but she was extremely pale. She must have been from a city in Australia rather than a rural area. She had recently moved to England within the last few months. Other wise she would have picked up on British inflections and tones. It would have changed her accent slighty.

Sherlock locked all this away for later. He had other matters to tend to.

Jessica slipped into one of their rooms. She looked around to make sure no one had seen her and she quietly shut the door. She had sat in the sandwich shop for an hour or so, waiting to see if they had returned. She stood and smoothed out her dress, making sure it was down in the back. IT was a nervous habit. The dress she wore was one of her favorites. It was a blue one with a white collar and cuffs and looked more like a long sweater. It was comfortable and let her move.

Jess looked at her grey over the knee socks and frowned. She had caught one of them on the window when she climbed in. She pulled them up slightly and stood up straight. She noticed her pale pink nails and pouted. It had chipped. Stupid window. She shrugged and looked around the room. It had a lot of science stuff so it was probably Sherlock Holmes'. Jess left it quickly, heading out into a hallway. She quietly shut the door and walked down the hall into the messy kitchen. It had flasks and burners everywhere. She began poking around.

Jess looked in their fridge and grimaced. It looked gross. Was that mold? She wondered and shut the door, shivering. Gross. Then she remembered something she had read on the blog. She went to the microwave and opened it up.

"Eugh!" She exclaimed under breath and grimaced. It was true. He did keep eyeballs there. She shut it quickly and wiped her hands on her dress, as if they were dirty. She left the kitchen and entered the sitting room. Jess spun slowly, looking at everything. She smiled. It was a cluttered flat but looked quite nice. She began to shrug off her coat and dropped it over one of the chairs as if she owned the place.

Jess's eyes landed on the desk of papers and laptops. She made a bee line for it with a smile. She began rifling through it. Some were old police reports. Others were maps or forensic results. She scanned over an old cold case file and wondered how he got his hands on it. It wasn't fair. How come she couldn't get those files?

Jess wandered around, looking at everything, but making sure everything was back in its place before moving on. She looked at the large number of books on the shelves and smiled at the random shoe on one of the shelves. There were odd little things here and there and even found where he hid his cigarettes. He probably had to hide them from Dr. Watson.

Jess smiled brightly and moved on to the mantel. She could still smell the chemicals from the kitchen, but the dust from the books and the fireplace began to make it less harsh. The skull on the mantle caught her eye.

"Ooh." She cooed. Was it a real skull? Jess slowly reached out her hands to gently pick it up but before her hands could get near enough, a deep voice called out to her, startling her.

"Don't touch." The man told her. Jess shouted and spun, startled to the door, a hand over her heart. She saw Sherlock Holmes standing there and Dr. John Watson appeared through the door, looking just as startled as her. She smiled and laughed nervously. Sherlock stood with a firm face and his hands in his coat pockets.

"You scared me." She said and tried to get her heart to stop racing.

"You broke in." Sherlock told her. She just smiled and shrugged.

"Guilty." Jess said lightly.

"How did you get in?" John asked, startled and indignant. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"A window. Look at her sock. She got it caught trying to climb in. Obvious." Sherlock explained and turned to her. "I assume you are here to return my wallet." Jess tilted her head slightly and looked him up and down briefly, then her face flashed into realization and she dug into her pocket.

"Oh! Yes, I forgot." She said and pulled it out. She smiled and held out her hand, offering the wallet to him. She walked over to him. "Here you go, I'm sorry about that." She said with a smile and looked at his nose. It was starting to bruise. Sherlock frowned at her and took it.

"How could you forget you nicked his wallet?" John asked. "Isn't that why you're here?" Jess bit her lip.

"Kind of." She told him. "I wanted to ask you two for help. You two do help people, yes?" She asked looking back at Sherlock. He sighed and began taking off his coat.

"Yeah, we do. But why did you take his wallet?" John asked, staring at her. She smiled at him.

"I wanted to make sure I got the right people. Didn't want to show up at the wrong place." She admitted. Silence hung about them before she stuck outher hand to John. "I'm Jessica Waren. It's nice to meet you, Dr. Watson." She said. John looked her up and down before taking her hand and shaking it.

"Pleasure." He said. He looked at her. She had very blue eyes and pale skin. He noticed right away the black septum piercing and two studs. Each nostril was pierced. "Have a seat. And we can listen to your case." He told her, still wary. She beamed and spun. She practically bounced over to Sherlock's chair before sitting in it. He frowned at the back of her heard from his spot at the desk.

"That's my chair." He pointed out. She turned to look at him.

"Sorry?" Jess asked, looking at him.

"That's my chair. John will get you your own." He pointed out. Jess looked at him before making a comical face. She went cross eyed and stuck out her tongue a bit. Sherlock just looked at her confused before she turned back around and looked at john with a soft smile. John sat in his chair. Looking at her slightly confused as well. Jess just smiled at him brightly.

"What, um." He started. "What can we do for you?"

"I think someone is trying to kill me." She said simply, smile still on her face. John looked at her startled and Sherlock snapped his head at her.

"Go to the police. That's not what we do." Sherlock said and stood. He walked behind John and picked up her coat. "They'll be better suited."

"They didn't believe me." Jess told them with a soft smile. She wasn't as cheery and looked almost sad. "They said there is no evidence to suggest foul play."

"What makes you think someone is trying to kill you?" John asked. Jess looked at him.

"Someone burned down my flat last week. I've been sleeping in my car." Jess told them. She didn't seem upset.

"It was probably a faulty wire or you left a candle burning." Sherlock told her, wanting her to leave. He handed her coat to her. She looked at him with an _are you serious?_

"Please." She said. "I know arson when I see it." Jess told them matter of factly. John frowned.

"How? Do you work with the fire department?" John inquired. Sherlock looked at her.

"No. Her frame is too small. She wouldn't be able to carry the gear. Her hands are neat except for the chipped polish from the window." Sherlock deduced. He sniffed her coat. Then he reached in to her coat pocket .He was looking for matches or a lighter, but when he looked at her, she had a small matchbook in between her fingers. She smiled at him, calm.

"You're an arsonist?" John asked her. John wasn't sure how he felt about helping a criminal. She shrugged.

"No, I just like to burn things. I've never actually burned down a house though." She said.

"Besides you flat, what else makes you think someone is trying to kill you?" John asked, clearing his throat.

"Well," Jess started. "the brakes on my car are missing, a bus almost hit me while I was crossing a street, and I was almost mugged." John stared at her. She wasn't kidding. "Oh wait, that mugging might not have been part of it, though." Jess said and frowned, thinking.

"Who would want you dead?" John asked. Jess shrugged.

"I have no clue." She admitted and smiled. "Hey, maybe you guys could just figure that out for me!"

"Why would they want you dead, though?" John asked. Sherlock snorted. And tossed her coat at her.

"She obviously either saw something, or stole something of importance." Sherlock said. "She's a petty criminal. She was bound to hit this issue in the first place. Though I am impressed you've managed to survive this long, we can't help you. Good day!" He said and walked away

"Sherlock!" John said and stood. Jess pouted.

"It's fine." She said and stood. "Thank you for at least listening." She said to John with a small smile. John looked at her concerned. He wasn't sure what to do. Jess offered him a small smile and put a hand on his arm before walking past him. She brushed passed John's little table and let her hand glide across it. John looked at her with pity. Poor girl would be dean in a week.

Sherlock waited by the door, indicating he wanted her to leave. She smiled at him and was about to say good bye but he stuck his hand out, as if he wanted something. He looked at her whith a look that mimicked her hearlier look. _Are you seriously going to try that?_

"What?" She asked innocently, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Give it back." He said as if to a child. Jess sighed and pulled her hand out of her pocket. It was a small notebook from John's little table. She gave it to Sherlock and John looked at the two flabbergast. When had she done that! "Thank you! Have a nice day!" He said as he walked away from the door. Jess sighed and put her coat on as she went down the stairs.

"Sherlock, we should have helped her!" John said as his friend sat in his own chair. They heard the door downstairs open and then a thud. John frowned.

"Let Scotland Yard handle it." Sherlock said. There was a thunk that caught both of their attention. The two men stood when the door slammed shut and a few more thunks sounded from downstairs. Sherlock went out to the stairwell ad peered down. John stood next to him.

Jess was sitting against the stairs and looked up. There was blood from her arm, spilling down and onto the foor. She looked a bit startled.

"I got shot." Jess called up. "I'm gonna stay here for while."


	2. Chapter 2

"Ow." Jess complained with a pout as she sat in the back of the ambulance. "Ouch!" She twitched again as the needle went into her skin. She didn't think she needed stitches, but then again, she wasn't a doctor. Or an EMT. "Could you not?" She asked the EMT. "Just slap a plaster on it and send me on my way, I'll be fine."

"Jessica, you got shot, you need stitches." John told her, standing with his arms crossed. She had tried to slip away and avoid the ambulance and John was making sure she was getting attention. Jessica was _not_ happy when they cut her sleeve to get to the cut. Luckily for her, the bullet only grazed her arm. Whoever was trying to kill her had a shit aim.

Sherlock was over talking to Lestrade. Sherlock had half a mind to beg for Greg to put her in witness protection and take her off his hands, but Lestrade refused. There wasn't anywhere to take her. Which is why, three hours later, Jess found herself sitting upside down in Sherlock's chair, bored out of her mind. You would think living with Sherlock Holmes would be entertaining.

The first hour, John had made her tea and watched over her, making sure she wouldn't go into shock or anything. She had seated herself in Sherlock's chair gain as he brooded in the kitchen, setting something on fire, probably. John sat in his own chair and they spoke quietly, just idle small talk. Jess was still in her blue dress and she was sad to see all the blood in it. It wasn't much, but it was enough to possibly leave a stain. Since she was staying with the two men until the shooter was found, Lestrade had sent two of his people to her car to get her things. All she had was in an old trunk in her back seat.

The first hour passed, and they dropped off her trunk. They were instructed to stay away from windows. Sherlock had left to go look at where the shooter was stationed. John sat with Jess to make sure she A) she wasn't shot again, and B) that she didn't steal anything.

Once she got her trunk, Jess took it to their bathroom and changed into a soft, grey sweater dress and left her socks on. The dress itself just looked like a very large sweater and it was very soft. Sherlock had returned with a sour face. Lestrade had insisted he and his teams had it handled. Sherlock thought otherwise.

John, seeing that someone else was there to babysit her, excused himself to go get them some food. He was going for takeout. He left with hardly a word, slipping out silently. Jess wandered around the flat, snooping again. Sherlock kept an eye on her, making sure she didn't nick anything. Every time her hand reached out to touch something he spoke.

"Don't." He would say almost bored, in a condescending tone. All she wanted to do was flip through a few of the books on the shelf. Some were old and beautiful. Jessica had an appreciation for old things. The older the better. When she found his violin, he put all of his attention on her, actually moved his head to make sure he had a good view of her. She didn't reach out to touch it, no matter how great the urge was. When she moved on, Sherlock exhaled silently. He didn't like people touching his things, especially his violin.

"Can I just read a book?" She whined, almost startling Sherlock. She had been silent for a long while. He didn't look up from his chemicals.

"Why not do what everyone else does? Watch the telly, surf the internet. Kill your brain cells." He told her slowly. He heard her scoff.

"I have no more to kill." She said to herself amusedly, sarcastically. Sherlock hummed in agreement.

"No arguments here." He told her. She spun and looked in his direction.

"Don't be rude." Jessica said and moved to the bookcase again. "That's it, I'm reading something." Sherlock watched her to make sure that a book was all that was removed. She sat herself down in his seat again and opened a book. Sherlock was slightly surprised to find her engrossed in a book about blood splatter patterns from various weapons. It was an older book and most likely outdated, but she delved into it all the same.

John returned around the time she started reading and took the food into the kitchen. Sherlock stopped paying attention to Jess for the most part. But when he heard faint music coming from her direction, he looked over to see she had grabbed her ipod. She had it turned up as loud as she could. It was an odd band, It sounded almost angry. It seemed to contradict her person. Someone so bubbly listening to such angry music.

John left a plate and food on the counter for Sherlock. If he was hungry he would eat. John grabbed his plate, and a plate for Jessica. HE stood in front of her and she looked up with a smile. She liked John. Jessica rested the book in her lap and pulled out an earbud.

"Hi, John." She smiled up at him. He smiled back and offered her a plate.

"Hi, I got us some food. Wasn't sure how hungry you would be." He said kindly. She frowned slightly.

"Thank you. I'm not really too, um. I'm not really hungry." She said with a weak smile.

"Jessica, you have to eat something." John said softly. "I don't want your body shutting down on you. You were shot, for christ's sake." Jessica nodded sheepishly and took the plate. John moved and sat in his own chair. "You don't have to eat all of it, just something." Jessica smiled at him and nodded slightly. She took her fork and slowly ate a few bites, still reading as she rested the plate in her lap. She didn't eat much, just a few bites, really, before she set the plate on the small table next to her chair. She put her earbuds back in and kept reading. As John moved to the desk to type on his blog, Jessica began to shift in her chair.

First she draped her legs over the arm of the chair and kept reading. Eventually she got bored with the book and set it on the floor. Every so often she would sigh. Before long, she was upside down with her legs over the back of the chair and her head hanging upside down. She had resulted to playing a game on her ipod. She was _bored._

Before long, even the game ceased to amuse her. She dropped the ipod onto her stomach and sighed. Jessica closed her eyes and thought back on the day. She was almost shot. She had been holding it together better than she thought she would. She always imagined freaking out the first time she would get shot. She was glad she didn't freak out. That would have been embarrassing.

Jess thought back on why someone would want her dead. Sherlock was right, she had seen something. She had been running away from security guards and had broken into a building to hide. It was an old abandoned flat above a Chinese store. She had sat in the dark, away from the windows for a few minutes, waiting for the guards to pass by. When she had determined the coast was clear, she stood and made her way to the front of the small flat. The shop sat on a corner and there was a small fire escape that dropped into an alley. She had just climbed out onto the ledge when she heard glass cracking. Jess looked up to the flat across the street as an older woman slumped in her chair, blood and brains falling out the back of her head. Jess shrieked, startled and looked at the building across the street. She could see someone, just barely, on top of the building. She dropped down to the floor as bullets dug into the brick behind her. She crawled to the ladder and dropped into the alley as quietly as she could. Jess mad sure to stay in the shadows and behind dumpsters. She had just seen a murder. And She saw the killer!

Jessica remembered how scared she had been for the past few weeks. The stress of wondering which moment was her last had gotten to her. She couldn't do it on her own, she went to the police. They did nothing, so she turned to Sherlock and John. She hoped to god they would be able to help her.

Jess's eyes snapped open when someone took an earbud out of her ear. Sherlock hovered over her with an excited look. She could see his eyes, grey and shinning with excitement. He swatted at her knees with his cold hands, motioning for her to sit upright.

"Sit up. We are taking your case." HE said as he moved on to the desk behind her. She struggled to sit up right and swayed in her seat. All the blood had rushed to her head.

"You mean there was a chance you weren't?" Jess asked. John just looked at her sheepishly. "What made you change your mind?"

"Detective Inspector Lestrade called. He needs my help, as usual." He said arrogantly as he moved to the door. He grabbed her coat and tossed it to her. "Get your coat on, we are leaving." He instructed to her as she caught it. She slowly put it on and looked to John. He wasn't moving.

"John, are you not coming?" She asked.

"I have to go in to the clinic tomorrow. I need to sleep sometime." He said with a small smile. Jess just frowned.

"Hurry, we don't have all night." Sherlock said as he made his way downstairs. Jess tugged on her boots and grabbed her pale purple knitted hat. It was cold outside tonight. She ran after Sherlock, bouncing down the steps. She was almost excited and wondered what it would be like if she didn't have someone after her head. She speculated that it would be pretty fun.

Jess ran out the door, tense, and expecting to be shot again, and ran over to the cab Sherlock was climbing into. She wondered if he would have left without her. She shivered at the cold.

"What did you see?" Sherlock asked as the cab began to drive. Jess looked at him. "What did you see to have someone want you dead?"

"I saw a murder." Jess told him quietly, so the cabbie didn't over hear. She paused and Sherlock nodded for her to continue. She told him all she saw. He frowned and stared at her when she told him where. He told the cabbie to go to a different destination. He was going to go see where the murder was. Jess sat silent, panicking.

When they arrived, Sherlock climbed out quickly and waited for Jess she wasn't moving. She did not want to get out of the cab. She did not want to get shot again.

"He's not here." Sherlock told her exasperatedly. "They hardly visit the same place twice." HE explained and stuck a hand out to help her out of the cab. She took it and stood. Sherlock turned to walk away from the cab but Jessica grabbed his arm and wrapped her own around it. She almost had a death grip. "What are you-" Sherlock started.

"If I go down, I'm taking you with me." She said quietly. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed. He really didn't like having his personal space invaded.

"I highly doubt that." He muttered and began to walk. Jess kept her grip tight. "Which building where you in?" He asked. Jess said nothing but pointed to the one right across the street from them. Then she pointed to the one next to it.

"That one is where the woman was killed. I think the police might still have it tapped off." She explained. "I called them once I was sure I was safe." Sherlock nodded.

"And the shooter? Where was he?" Sherlock asked.

"Why do you assume it's a he?" Jess asked, curiously looking up at him.

"SO far all of the attempts on your life had been from far away. Statistically, women murders tend to be closer to their targets. Within reaching distance." Sherlock explained. Jessica soaked in every word. She nodded in understanding.

"Good to know," she said. Sherlock looked at her. She wasn't planning on murder was she? She kept her death grip on his arm as they walked. This late a t night, it was empty and silent. Sherlock and Jess crossed the street, heading over to the building where Jess hid. She took him around back tot eh window she uses to get in. When they turned the corner, she frowned.

"There's supposed to be a small dumpster here." She muttered as she looked up to the widow. It wasn't too high up. She stepped away from Sherlock and looked at his height. Then she looked to the window. It was still open like it always was. Jess turned to him to ask for a boost to see he had read her mind.

Sherlock had knelt down and was resting his gloved hands on his knees. She grabbed onto his shoulder and took off her boots. The heels would make it difficult.

"Bring these up with you." She told him. "Once I'm in, you can come up the fire escape. I'll drop the ladder." Jess put her foot in his hand and kept a grip on his shoulder and on the wall as he stood. She slowly stood and put her other foot on his shoulder. Jes kept herself braced against the wall and looked up. She reached up and counldn't quite reach the ledge. "Shit."

"Too small?" Sherlock called up, keeping his eyes on the area around him, making sure no one was watching them.

"Shut it." She bit at him. "Make another bridge with your hands and give me another boost." She told him. He did as he was told and was slightly surprised at how light she was. When she gripped the ledge she pushed off of his hands and pulled herself up. "Got it." She called down quietly.

Sherlock watched as she disappeared into the window. He heard her swear followed by a few thuds. Then nothing. He frowned.

"Ms. Warren?" HE called up, wanting to make sure she was alright. "Ms. Warren!" He called again. "Jessica!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Jessica!" Sherlock called up, concerned that something had happened to her already. Perhaps he was wrong and the killer was waiting for her.

"What?" She called down, reappearing back in the window. Sherlock found himself sighing quietly in relief. "Go around the side, I'll drop the fire escape." She told him before disappearing back into the dark. Sherlock picked up her boots and walked around to the side. She was waiting for him in the window. He tossed her shoes up one at a time and climbed up. She had finished putting her shoes on and climbed back through the window. Sherlock followed her inside and stood upright and looked around. It was an old, creaky building with wooden floors. IT couldn't be safe up here.

"Where were you standing when you witnessed the shooting?" He asked, looking at Jessica. She looked at him and blinked before moving over to the window. She stood there, silent, and pointed to the building next to them.

"That's where the woman was." Jessica said before pointing to another building. "Do you see that balcony over there?" She asked.

"Yes, this was where the shooter was?" Sherlock asked and she nodded. "Are you sure he saw you? It's a considerable distance away."

"I'm positive." Jessica said, her voice sure enough to convince Sherlock. "He did start to shoot at me." Sherlock hummed to himself before climbing out onto the fire escape again to look at the bullet holes. "Are you looking for the bullets?" Jessica asked, leaning out of the window.

"Yes. It is unlikely that the detectives noticed this building was shot at as well." He answered as he crouched down. He heard Jessica hum.

"I think one went in here." She told him as she disappeared back into the building. "I'll look around, see if I can find it." Sherlock heard her walking around and rolled his eyes. He doubted she would find it in that room. It was dusty with objects still lying around. It would be hard to find the bullet hole unless you knew where to look. He heard the floor boards creaking more and more dangerously as she got farther and farther away. "Sherlock, I think I –" She stopped speaking and Sherlock heard the floor give way and he stood up straight and looked in. "Shit! Ow!" She yelled.

Sherlock jumped through the window and carefully made his way over to her. Jessica had one leg through the floor and she was supporting herself on the other knee and her hands. He could see tears forming in her eyes. It must have hurt.

"Are you alright?" He asked. Jessica grit her teeth and nodded and he slowly helped her get her leg out of the floor. Sherlock looked at it quickly. She had some pieces of wood in her leg, but nothing major. She was scraped up and she was bleeding, but it didn't look too severe.

"We need to leave." She told him. He looked at her and frowned. "Police will be here soon. They have a silent alarm." She explained and winced. Sherlock frowned.

"And how do you know this?" He asked. She rolled her eyes.

"Do you honestly think I wouldn't know?" She asked. "I'm a thief. I know the alarms in the buildings I use. They only have it on the first floor. They don't bother with this one. Nothing up here to steal." She explained and Sherlock could detect irritation in her voice. He helped her to stand and she winced but didn't complain. She grit her teeth and stood, determined to walk on her own. Sherlock kept a hand on her upper arm in case she fell.

"Let's get you to a hospital." He instructed and led her to the window with the fire escape. "I have enough pullet samples for my own work." Jessica shook her head.

"No hospital." She told him. "I can take care of my own leg. It's just a few cuts and scrapes." Sherlock sighed and helped her through the window.

"If you insist." He told her. "However, if anything gets infected, we will not be handling the medical expenses." Jessica rolled her eyes as he climbed down the fire escape.

"It won't get infected." She told him and carefully followed him down. "Have some faith in me, Sherlock." She hopped off the ladder and Sherlock steadied her.

"Have faith in a thief?" He snorted. "Unlikely."

"Ok, how are we getting home?" Jessica asked, looking around. "I don't see any cabs."

"We are walking until we see one." He instructed and sighed when she wrapped her arm and his again, but he didn't move away. He supposed it would be better this way, in case she fell. Honestly, He didn't mind her clinging too much. It was odd at first, but he soon got used to it as they walked. And when she pulled away to get into the cab, the absence of her warmth felt odd to him. And for a brief second, he almost wanted it to return.

"What the hell happened to you?" John shouted when they walked upstairs.

"I almost fell through the floor." Jessica told him. "Don't worry, I'm fine." She assured. John sighed through his nose loudly. "Where's the first aid kit? You have one, right?" Jessica asked. John just glared at her and pointed to his chair.

"Sit." He ordered. "I'll get a kit. I want to make sure all the wood is out." He explained as he walked away. Jessica huffed and sat in Sherlock's chair instead. Just to annoy him.

"Don't bleed on my chair." He drawled from the kitchen, messing around with who knows what. Jessica just rolled her eyes. She was starting to get tired of getting so banged up.

Sorry it's so short. I hit another writer's block and I wanted to get something up.


	4. Chapter 4

_It's day three of the blizzard and I am certain the three of us are never making out of here alive. Obviously, I will survive and if John plays his cards right, he should be fine as well. Sherlock is going to die. And who knows, maybe John will snap and kill him first._

 _I understand cabin fever, good lord who doesn't in this case, but after three days with Sherlock Holmes, I just want him dead._

Jessica was startled by the sound of another gunshot ringing out through the flat and she hoped to whatever deity was out there that John had finally snapped.

"Damnit, Sherlock!" She heard John shout. She groaned and buried her head into a pillow. She had been staying at the flat. She slept on the couch. It was quite a comfortable couch and the flat was warm, especially with the fire place going. They had all been stuck inside the flat for three days now. A large blizzard hit London, trapping them all inside together. Sherlock was driving them up a wall. This was the third time he started shooting at things. Yesterday, her damn near blew up the kitchen.

OK, Jessica had a hand in that. If she was going to be fair, she could say it was mostly her fault. She was curious and tried to watch Sherlock, but he kept trying to block her view. So when she tried to lean around him to see, she might have nocked over a few questionable bottles of flammable liquids. But that wasn't what scared Sherlock. HE quickly turned off the bunsen burner which solved most of the problem. But he then picked up the small women and dragged her into the sitting room before ripping off her cardigan and her blouse. Jessica was startled and protested, but he tossed the clothes onto the hardwood floor and grabbed her arms.

Jessica had watched as he seemed to look for something on her skin. She scowled at him and asked what he was doing. Turns out, she had gotten a nasty acid on her clothes. He was making sure she didn't get any on her skin. The cardigan and blouse were ruined and it was a good thing she didn't get a chemical burn. Once her skin had started burning, it was a good probability that she would have tried to wash it off with water. That you have made it worse.

"Did you shoot him?" Jessica asked as she heard John coming down the steps. She heard a sigh, telling her John had somehow managed to refrain from shooting him. She wondered how. "Any idea when it's supposed to stop snowing?"

"Sometime tonight, I think." John told her as he made his way to the kitchen. "Tea?" HE asked her.

"Yes please." She answered as footsteps bounded down the steps. HE sounded like an overgrown child. Jessica watched out of the corner of her eye as he flew to the window, his dressing gown flapping behind him. He stood there for a few minutes before flying to his bookshelf. He seemed to be looking for something as he tore things off shelves and tossed things off his desk. HE kept at it for a while. John had even gotten them tea and was sitting in his chair, reading, as Sherlock proceeded to destroy his work areas.

Before long, Sherlock seemed to tire himself out and plopped into his seat with the loudest huff Jessica had ever heard. She sipped her tea, her journal open and resting in her lap.

"Looking for something?" She asked. Sherlock rolled his head to look at her with an irritated glare. She sipped her tea and looked right at him.

"Just ignore him." John told her as he flipped a page. "He's just looking for his cigarettes." Sherlock tossed an annoyed look towards john before he brought his knees up to his chin and huffed. HE knew there was no way John was going to give in.

"Those things will kill you, ya know." Jessica told him before going back to her journaling about how she would kill Sherlock and where she would dump the body. It was a beautiful journal. It was a soft grey leather with tanned pages. Small blue forget-me-nots were embroidered on the bottom corner. It was old, she had had it since she was young. Her mother had given it to her before she died. It was her most valued possession.

Sherlock continued to search for them after a few minutes of moping. He paced in front of the window where the skies were still grey and snow was falling. John had fallen asleep in his chair and Jessica had picked up a book, setting her journal on the table. She couldn't concentrate on the book as much because every time Sherlock moved to a different spot, her eyes would follow him. After a half an hour of this nonsense, she sighed and dropped the book on the table.

"Sherlock, come here." She told him. Sherlock quit his pacing and looked at her, almost offended.

"Don't talk to me as if I was some child." He told her.

"I'll talk to you like an adult when you stop acting like a child." She told him. "Now sit down before I shoot you. You're driving me up a wall." She told him and pat the seat on the couch next to her. He stared at her for a minute before walking over to the couch and plopping down. She turned and faced him and he mirrored her. Sherlock still had a scowl on his face. She stretched out her hands, as if she was going to accept something from him. "Put your hands on mine."

"Why?" He asked quickly, already not happy with the idea of touch another (living) human being. Jessica sighed through her nose and gave him a look. HE slowly got the hint and cautiously put his hands in hers. The moment he relaxed his hands, Jessica brought her hands out from underneath and gently slapped the tops of his, startling him. He looked at her, confused and with a look of offense. She put her hands out again and gave him an expectant look. Sherlock frowned. He was a little confused, but after a few minutes of staring at her and her hands, he rested his on hers. Perhaps this would be different? No. Then that means he needs to learn how to tell when she is going to move.

Sherlock quickly learned that she had very fast hands. Eventually, they switched to where Sherlock was smacking her hands. Everyone once in a while, it would get intense and Jessica would giggle. sHe swore Sherlock cracked a smile. They kept at it for ages. John was just happy to finally have some peace. Maybe snow days aren't always so bad.


End file.
